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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462468">Safe Harbour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka'>scarletmanuka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Starless Sea - Erin Morgenstern</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, M/M, Snippet, The beginning of their new story, afterwards</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:55:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zachary and Dorian begin to find their feet after the rise of the tide.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zachary Ezra Rawlins/Dorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zachary Ezra Rawlins sits in a booth at the very back of the smoky bar, watching as the Thursday night crowd of university students and members of the local theatre company laugh and dance and drink. For one fleeting moment he feels alone and untethered, separated by the rest of humanity by differing experiences, a churning sea of honey, and two years of lost time. His chest aches for a cavernous world filled with books and bees and stories, the bitter taste of an unfulfilling ending lingering on his tongue. His fervent wish to be back there, even as it was and not as it had been, to be on the shores of the starless sea, or to walk the book lined corridors, or to drink wine with Mirabel in an abandoned ballroom, is almost overwhelming. He drifts, lost, until a warm hand falls on his shoulder and he looks up into grounding, warm brown eyes.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Dorian asks, sliding the sidecar - without the sugared rim - across the table to him.</p><p>Zachary shrugs and flashes him an apologetic smile. “I think. Maybe. I…don’t really know.”</p><p>Dorian just nods and sits down in the space next to Zachary, instead of taking the chair on the opposite side of the booth. His presence at Zachary’s side is warm and solid and <em> real</em>. “It will take some time to adjust, we knew this. There will be times when we don’t feel…connected to the world around us, when we will feel outside of the story and not within it. We just need to remember that we are in a new story now, and that it will be some time before we have a handle on the narrative.”</p><p>Zachary nods, grateful that Dorian can put this into words, to explain how they are both feeling.</p><p>“And,” Dorian adds, one large palm settling on Zachary’s thigh, “you are not alone. You have me.”</p><p>He smiles and leans into Dorian, still not quite used to being able to touch whenever he wishes. Zachary tries not to think too much about how close they came to losing one another before they had even begun, but sometimes it’s hard <em> not </em>to think about it. He could easily have become nothing more than a near kiss and a guilt that would eat away at Dorian’s heart until he too died. There have been many nights where Dorian has woken screaming from sleep as he relived Zachary’s death over and over again. They would turn the light on so they could see one another and then there they would remain, clutched in each other’s arms, reassuring themselves that they were both real, both there, both alive.</p><p>“Are you looking forward to returning to your studies?” Dorian asks, taking a sip of his whiskey.</p><p>Zachary nods. “I am. It’ll be good to finally finish my degree.” He had debated for a long time after his return as to whether or not he should bother going back to university, and it had been his mother who had convinced him. <em> “I saw you, on your wedding day, with your diploma hanging on the wall behind you. Finish your studies, honeychild, it’s what you’re meant to do.” </em></p><p>He’d told Dorian that his mother had seen his diploma but not the part about the wedding. He knew that he was in love with Dorian and that Dorian was in love with him, but assuming that they would get married after only being together for such a short time, no matter what they’d been through together, seemed presumptuous. Zachary had learned long ago that his mother’s visions were not always correct and it was best to simply live his life and make his own decisions. The choice to return to university was clearly something that he had already subconsciously decided, but he’d simply needed a push.</p><p>“What about you?” Zachary asks. “Looking forward to the new job?” He himself had felt uneasy when Dorian had announced that he was starting as an editor at a small, indie publishing house, the memory of dream Dorian too fresh in his mind. Dorian had been excited when he’d had the offer though, especially since they’d gotten a small apartment together and could now pay the rent without help from Zachary’s mother. He hoped that soon the memory of dream Dorian would fade, to be replaced with memories of real Dorian and their life together.</p><p>“I am,” Dorian replies. “It will be odd, since I’ve never really had a <em> proper </em> job before, but I’m sure I will get used to it.”</p><p>They had The Keeper to thank for getting Dorian an interview with no prior experience since Dorian hadn’t been able to put down ‘Assassin for secret society’ on his resume. Publishing may be a cut throat industry but they wouldn’t be too pleased if their metaphors morphed into reality.</p><p>Zachary smiles. “I’ll make sure to have dinner on the table when you get home,” he teases.</p><p>Dorian’s lips twitch. “You’re too good to me, dear Zachary.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it – once I’m back at uni I doubt I’ll be in the mood to cook every day after class.”</p><p>Dorian leans over and kisses him sweetly on the lips. “I don’t expect you to play, housewife, Zachary. You know this, don’t you?”</p><p>“Of course,” he assures his boyfriend. “Besides, after you try my cooking you might not ever want me to cook again.” He sighs. “I miss the kitchen. They made such wonderful food, even if it was really just honey." He pauses. "I wonder…”</p><p>“Yes?” Dorian prompts after Zachary has been quiet for a long moment.</p><p>“I wonder if they made it out,” he says quietly. “The bees.”</p><p>Dorian rubs his thumb over the back of Zachary’s hand in sympathy. They’d swapped stories and knew about almost everything that had happened while they’d been separated. The only part that Zachary had held back was the dream Dorian that he had met, not wanting to admit how close he’d come to wanting to believe that it had been real. “Come,” Dorian says softly. “Let’s go home. You look to be in need of distracting.”</p><p>Zachary nods, leaving his half-drunk sidecar on the table and following Dorian up from the table. Dorian’s hand clasps his and he follows, <em> will </em>follow, wherever Dorian leads. They step outside into the cool night air and it suddenly feels like their future is stretched out long and endless in front of them. Zachary may have lost one harbour but he has found another, and he knows that he will forever be safe with Dorian. Their story was only just beginning. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zachary is already in the bedroom as Dorian moves around their small flat, readying it for the night. He latches the deadbolt on the front door, draws closed the kitchen curtains, and makes sure that the food and water bowls, belonging to their four cats - refugees of the Starless Sea just like them - are full. The cats themselves are presently ignoring the fluffy cat beds and elaborate scratching posts that have been provided for their comfort and are instead curled up upon various shelves of the bookcases; the tabby on top of one of Zachary’s old university texts, the Persian on a dog-eared second hand copy of <em> Lord of the Rings, </em>and the two mixed breed mongrels entwined around each other, bookended by a faux leather bound collection of works by Arthur Conan Doyle and a 2011 copy of the Oxford Dictionary.</p><p>Dorian takes a moment to give each cat a scratch behind the ears and with a quiet murmur, bids them goodnight before turning off the light and heading down the short hallway to their bedroom. The bedroom is dark but from the light spilling in from the hallway, he sees Zachary standing by the window, face tilted up towards the moon. Without saying a word, he turns off the light and crosses the room, slipping his hands over Zachary’s hips and pressing a kiss to the soft skin on the back of his neck. </p><p>“Tell me a story,” Zachary whispers into the darkness.</p><p>Dorian smiles and noses the hairs on the nape of Zachary’s neck. “What kind of story?” he asks.</p><p>“A happy story.”</p><p>“Very well.” He drops the pitch of his voice, taking on what Zachary fondly calls his <em> storytelling voice </em>, and he leans in close to whisper against the shell of his boyfriend’s ear. It instantly transports Dorian back in time, to a dark room at a masquerade ball. “Once upon a time, there was a rogue of a man, who was lost and searching for his truth. He had lost his way, long ago, but knew that he had to find his path, the one that would lead him into his future. He searched for many years, making friends and enemies along the way, sometimes walking parallel to the path, but never quite walking on it. There was an emptiness beside him, a wrongness, and he knew that it was because he was walking alone.” He lets his lips hover for a moment against the sensitive spot just behind Zachary’s ear and holds back a smile as he feels him shiver. “When the man had finally begun to despair that he would never find his way, he met a man. A man in a simple mask, with unruly curls, and a helpless distrust of him.” He steps from behind Zachary and to his side, linking their fingers together. “The two of them began a journey together but almost immediately they were separated, and they spent all of their time fighting to find one another once more. Amid destruction and chaos their paths slowly, inexorably, began to align until finally, they were walking side by side once more. The rogue felt something deep inside of him click into place and he knew then that he had finally found his truth. He had found his path and it had led him to his one true love.”</p><p>He sees Zachary smile and knows that his story has accomplished its task of drawing him from his melancholy. Turning, Dorian slips his hands onto Zachary’s hips and tugs him forward, seeking out his lips with his own. He will never tire of kissing Zachary. Unlike some desired things that lose their shine once they are had, the kisses always spark something bright and hopeful deep inside of him. Dorian parts his lips and deepens the kiss and feels Zachary push against him, his erection hot and firm against his hip.</p><p>“Need you,” Zachary whispers, drawing back from the kiss only to drop his mouth to Dorian’s throat and begin kissing his way down to his collarbones. </p><p>“I am yours, anytime.”</p><p>They take turns stripping the clothes away from one another and Dorian savours the feel of smooth skin under his fingers. He has mapped Zachary's body countless times now but he knows that he will never know it all, no matter how he tries, and so there will always be something new to find. For now, his hands find their way to the familiar planes of Zachary’s lower back, palms splayed, seeking as much contact as possible. Zachary has returned to their kiss, but not before he has sucked a mark to Dorian’s pectoral muscle. He has a thing for marking him and Dorian can only guess that it’s a way for Zachary to have tangible proof that they are there, living this life together, and not lost to the rising honey.</p><p>Their hips align and their cocks rub together and Zachary hisses in pleasure, a sound that Dorian greedily swallows down. They are both slick, eager, and they slide and touch and rub together perfectly. </p><p>“Come on, Dorian,” Zachary gasps, “I really, <em> really </em> need you.”</p><p>They move to the bed and Dorian fetches the lube while Zachary flops down onto the centre of the mattress, legs spread invitingly, a coy smile on his face. When he looks at Dorian like that, there is nowhere that he wouldn't follow Zachary and Dorian climbs onto the bed to settle between his legs. “You are so perfect,” he whispers.</p><p>“Are you going to look at me all night?” Zachary asks. “Or are you going to fuck me?”</p><p>“So crass,” Dorian chides teasingly.</p><p>“Not all of us can be a master of words,” Zachary retorts, and drops his hand to wrap around his cock.</p><p>Dorian batts his hand away and mock glares at him. “No touching yet.”</p><p>“Then hurry up,” Zachary whines.</p><p>He slicks his cock and then rubs some more at Zachary’s entrance, the muscle beneath his fingers fluttering in anticipation. He slips a finger inside, and he is able to enter easily, Zachary relaxed and eager. He adds more lube and another finger instead of the plug they usually use in preparation, wanting to feel Zachary himself. Tight, smooth heat surrounds him and he pumps his fingers a couple of times, spreading the slick and enjoying the small moans and gasps that fall from Zachary’s mouth. </p><p>Dorian finally pulls out and lifts one of Zachary’s legs to his shoulder and lines himself up. He pushes and feels the head of his cock breach Zachary and he pauses there, understanding that no matter how often they do this, that Zachary always needs a breather here. Soon he gets a nod and he sinks in even further, rocking his hips a little to help ease the way. He goes slowly and eventually his pelvis is flush against Zachary’s ass. “You always feel so good,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle against Zachary’s cheek.</p><p>“So do you,” Zachary agrees, and his fingers clutch at Dorian’s shoulders. </p><p>They don’t hurry their lovemaking, taking the time to enjoy every thrust, every moan, every ripple of pleasure. They have time now, there’s no ticking clock, no need to hurry. They can simply enjoy the moment, enjoy each other. They share languid kisses, and when Zachary bends forward to lick across one of Dorian’s nipples - a ticklish spot for him - they fall into a short but intense tickle fight.</p><p>Dorian rolls them and Zachary ends up on top, flushed and breathing hard, looking more beautiful than anything Dorian has ever seen. “I love you,” he tells Zachary quietly and is rewarded with a soft smile.</p><p>“I love you, too. Always.”</p><p>Zachary rolls his hips and suddenly things become urgent. Dorian grasps his hips and thrusts upwards, and Zachary meets him each time. Their skin is slick with sweat from the heat between them, and the flush on Zachary’s cheeks has spread down across his chest. Neither of them can spare the air for speech and they gasp and breathe together and Dorian wraps a hand around his boyfriend's cock and begins to stroke and soon Zachary is crying out, his release spurting between them, his muscles clamping down around Dorian. He’s close, so close now and he chases his own orgasm, even as Zachary rides out the last, shuddering waves of his own. Then he’s there, feeling as if in a free fall and he empties himself inside of Zachary, holding him close and peppering his face with kisses.</p><p>Zachary rolls over him and Dorian climbs to his feet and staggers to the bathroom in search of a washcloth. Once they’re relatively clean of mess, he falls back into bed, curling up behind Zachary and holding him close. It doesn't take long for Zachary’s breathing to even out and his muscles to go lax as he falls asleep, but Dorian doesn't sleep, not yet. He’s happy enough to just lay there in the dark, safe in the harbour that they have created for themselves, and to relive their story in his mind.</p>
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